


it always leads to you

by thatfangirlingfreak



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Actor Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Angst, Artist Xu Ming Hao | The8, Bottom Xu Ming Hao | The8, Childhood Sweethearts, Home for Christmas, M/M, Top Wen Jun Hui | Jun, but very in love, fictionalization of shenzhen btw!, jun's family is p important in this, junhao are dumb, mostly inspired by folklore/evermore lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28441476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfangirlingfreak/pseuds/thatfangirlingfreak
Summary: Junhui comes home for the holidays.So does his ex-boyfriend.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 16
Kudos: 121





	it always leads to you

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to finish this in time for christmas but I got too attached to the storyline lol
> 
> so happy belated holidays to you all, I hope you still enjoy reading this!!
> 
> the title is from 'tis the damn season by taylor swift!

Junhui steps off the plane and feels an overwhelming urge to get back on.

It’s quite jarring, going from sunny and beautiful L.A. to his cold and dreary hometown of Shenzhen. He misses it already.

But then, he’s met with his mother’s warm arms and teary smile, and he doesn’t know why he’d ever get on another plane again.

“Oh, Junhui!” his mother cries into his shoulder, pulling away only to press her hands to his cheeks. “How was your flight? Did you eat? Are you hungry?”

“I’m fine, Ma,” he smiles down at her, taking her hands in his and gently moving them away from his face. “Where’s Fengjun and Dad?”

“Waiting for you at home. Let’s grab your luggage so we can go, hm?”

He follows his mother through the airport as they head to baggage claim, doing his best to keep up with her fast pace and rapid-fire questioning.

“What did you eat?”

Junhui knows better than to tell her about the little bag of mixed nuts, package of cookies, and the half glass of wine he’d had during his flight.

“Just whatever they served on the plane.”

“And did you sleep well on the plane?”

He shrugs, thinking about all the restless dreams he’d had in between bursts of turbulence.

“Yeah, I slept.”

“And that boy, Joshua? How is he? How’s Jeonghan?”

“They’re alright,” Junhui smiles, thinking of how his best friends took forever to send him off at LAX. Both of them reminded him of his mother in that way, that inability to say goodbye or to stop fretting over his safety and comfort. They were probably the only bit of home he really had in California, besides the Chinese restaurants that he’d claimed as his own.

“Good. You know, a lot of people have been asking about you since your last film came out,” his mother says when they finally reach the baggage claim area. “I saw Mrs. Xu, and she…”

Junhui stares blankly at the conveyor belt before him, moving despite being empty.

Xu. That name brings him right back to his restless plane dreams, the sting of nostalgia that sometimes pricked at his insides, the memories his mind supplied whenever the sun hit just right in L.A.

“...anyways, she said that Minghao was coming home for the holidays, too,” his mom finishes. “You should pay them a visit, it’s been awhile since you’ve seen Minghao.”

“I don’t think he’d want to see me, Ma,” he mutters.

His mother clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “It’s been years since you’ve seen that boy, and you don’t have the decency to go say hello to him? What kind of son have I raised?”

“Ma…”

“You used to run around with him all the time, always ‘Minghao this, Minghao that.’ And now you won’t even visit your old friend,” she shakes her head with a sigh. “What happened to my little Wen Junhui, hm?”

He watches as the baggage starts flooding in, circling round and round on the worn conveyor belt.

“I don’t know, Ma,” he murmurs.

His mother lets out another sigh. “Well, grab your bags and let’s get going. Your brother’s been waiting all week for you.”

Junhui lifts his baggage off the belt, drags it out of the airport, hoists it into the car, and tries not to think about the weight of his other baggage – Xu Minghao.

He stares out the window as his mother drives, taking in the subtle changes that’d been made to the Shenzhen skyline while he was gone.

It was good to be home.

—

Waking up in his childhood bedroom feels just as weird as ever.

Junhui feels too big for the bed, too small for his old room. He glances at the movie posters he’d left tacked to the walls as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

He wonders what the Junhui who hung up those posters would say if he saw him now.

It’s been five years since he decided to make acting a serious career for himself. Sure, he’d had roles here and there as a child, but nothing groundbreaking enough to land him his big break.

He knew that he’d have to move to America if he ever wanted to make it big. To become an international actor. Hollywood, that was where he belonged. Small time acting in Shenzhen was okay, but he always dreamed of acting in blockbuster films, Oscar-winning films.

That was something Shenzhen would never be able to offer him.

As soon as he had the chance, as soon as he became an adult, he left everything to pursue that dream. It was just something that he had to do, or else he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

He almost doubted himself, leaving behind his parents, his little brother, his friends.

Leaving behind Minghao.

When he closes his eyes sometimes, he can still see the last time he saw him, all those years ago. He can see his tear-streaked face, his dark, angry eyes, his hands clasped onto Junhui’s wrist.

Junhui doesn't want to know what his former self would think about that.

Once he left Shenzhen, his life became all about looking for the next thing, finding something bigger, better. He auditioned for everything he could get his hands on, acting in small television roles and minor film roles.

Although he wasn’t quite Oscar-scale yet, Junhui still had faith that his big break would come. As Joshua often told him, “Just wait, Jun. One day, you’ll be listed first in the credits, and everyone will know your name.”

Maybe he hadn’t had a starring role yet, but at least he was living in L.A. At least he had accomplished that part of his dream.

He likes to think his former self would at least be proud of that.

Junhui swings his legs over the side of his too small bed with a sigh, and stands up to stretch. He glances at the clock and realizes–it’s only 4 a.m. He’d forgotten to account for the 16 hour time difference between L.A. and Shenzhen.

He falls back against his mattress, tries to stare at his ceiling until he bores himself to sleep, but somehow, he feels completely wide awake.

Junhui slides off his bed again and sits at his old desk. Everything is in the same place as always, even after all this time. His old pencils are still in the same cup, his clock still blinking next to it. His small book collection is still propped up in the same corner.

He opens up some of the desk drawers and looks inside. There are some old wire headphones tangled together, a few cards from some relatives, loose change. But at the back of one of the drawers, he digs out one of his, secretly, most treasured possessions.

It's a small photo album, an old gift from Minghao.

He'd given it to Junhui on his 17th birthday, which is still, to this day, the best birthday he’d ever had.

Junhui can’t help but smile fondly as he recalls that day, tracing the stitching on the side of the album. Minghao had told him that he made the whole thing himself, beaming with pride. He remembers thinking that no one had ever cared about him enough to make him a gift by hand.

He flips the photo album open and feels the distinct ache of nostalgia come flooding in.

The pages are filled with photos of him and Minghao, grinning at the camera, arms draped over each other, heads propped on each other’s shoulders. Every page is full of them, full of the joyous days Junhui wishes he could forget.

He slowly closes the album before he even gets halfway through. It’d been years now, but the pain still felt fresh.

Junhui wonders if there’ll ever be a day where thinking about him doesn’t sting.

He crawls back into his tiny bed, and tries to go back to sleep.

In his dreams, he sees Minghao, just as he did during his flight home. Only this time, the dream doesn’t hurt.

When he sees Minghao this time, he feels...warm. Complete.

And he sleeps peacefully, for once.

—

“Wen Junhui, you lazy child,” his mother scolds from down the hall. “Get out of bed! It’s almost noon.”

He groans at her nagging, slipping out of the warm cocoon of his bed once more. He opens his bedroom door and shuffles down the stairs, following the scent of breakfast floating throughout the house.

When he enters the kitchen, there’s a steaming bowl of porridge waiting for him, as well as his mother, who’s busy sifting through the pile of envelopes and magazines on the table.

“Morning,” he says as he takes the empty chair. “Anything interesting in the mail?”

His mother squints at the envelope in her hand. “Mostly junk. It’s about time you got up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think the jet lag would hit me this hard,” he slurps up a spoonful of the porridge.

“That’s why you have to stay awake and work through the jet lag,” she says. “But anyways, now that you’re up, you can help me with the laundry.”

Junhui sighs into his bowl. “Okay, Ma.”

“Don’t look so glum,” his mother jokes, patting at his back. “I know something that’ll make you happy–Minghao comes home today!”

He rolls his eyes. “Why on Earth would that make me happy, Ma?”

“Don’t roll your eyes at your mother,” she nags. “And you should be happy–he’s your childhood friend!”

“Yes, Ma, _childhood_. As in, past. As in, we are no longer friends.”

She shakes her head. “I still think you should pay him a visit.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Junhui huffs. “I’m visiting Kun and Soonyoung tonight, anyways.”

“Maybe you can invite Minghao along!”

He lets out a long sigh, and gives up on trying to explain his relationship with Minghao, or lack thereof, to his mother.

“Yeah, Ma. Maybe.”

He spends all day listening to his mother go on and on about local gossip and news, with a few mentions of Minghao sprinkled in here and there. She still didn’t seem to get the hint that Junhui didn’t want to talk about him.

So that night, when he meets up with Kun and Soonyoung at their favorite bar in all of Shenzhen, he feels immense relief when neither of them mention Minghao at all.

“...and yeah, I’ve been dating him since August,” Kun says, wrapping up the story of how he met his boyfriend, Ten. “It’s still kind of new, but I’d say things are going pretty well.”

“Aw, Kun’s in love!” Soonyoung chirps, pinching at Kun’s cheek.

“I-what?! Hey!” He swats at Soonyoung’s hand. “Stop that!”

Junhui chuckles at the sight, taking a swig of his beer. Some things never change.

“You’re no fun,” Soonyoung pouts at Kun, then immediately brightens back up as he turns to face Junhui. “What about you, Jun? How’s the L.A. dating scene?”

He shrugs. “Um, I’m not really sure. I don’t really date.”

“Really?” his eyebrows raise in surprise. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

Junhui picks at the label on his beer bottle. “High school, I guess?”

Kun stares at him with wide eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“I’ve been busy…” he tries to say as nonchalantly as possible. “Focusing on acting, and stuff.”

“Damn,” Soonyoung whistles. “We have to get you laid while you’re here then.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I haven’t gotten laid since high school!” he protests. “I just...haven’t been dating…”

“Still, it’s sad. But don’t worry, bro,” Soonyoung clasps a hand around Junhui’s shoulder. “I’ll help you!”

“You are the last person who should be meddling in someone’s dating life,” Kun snorts.

As his two old friends begin bickering, Junhui stares into his bottle and thinks about the last date he’d ever been on.

Ice skating at the frozen lake downtown, holding on to each other’s hands for dear life, laughing when they crashed into each other or ended up sprawled on the ice. Hot chocolate at the nearby cafe, kissing under the snow, singing Christmas carols on the drive home.

That’d been his last date with Minghao, one of the last happy times they shared.

Junhui swallows down the rest of his beer in one go, hoping to chase away the bitter taste in his mouth.

—

“Wait, Ma said we needed more milk.”

“Shit,” Junhui mutters. “Alright, I’ll go grab some, can you stay in line with the cart?”

“But what if I get to the front and you’re not back in time?” Fengjun asks worriedly.

“I’ll be quick,” he replies, starting to move through the crowd of shoppers. “Just stay in line!”

He hurries through the aisles, doing his best to avoid getting run over with someone’s cart. When he finally makes it to the milk section, an old lady is standing in front of the fridge he needs to get to, taking her sweet time.

Junhui sighs, bouncing on his feet impatiently. He needed to get back to Fengjun, the line hadn’t been that long, and he knew his brother would never forgive him if he put him in such an awkward situation.

He looks at the shoppers around him, wondering if anyone else was as annoyed as he was with this lady, when something catches his eye.

Long, fleeting black hair, an oddly bright, patterned top.

Junhui blinks once, twice.

There was no way he just saw Minghao. No way.

“Sir, are you going to move?” some lady asks him, wielding her shopping cart like it’s a weapon.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, realizing that the elderly lady was no longer in front of the milk and stepping forward to grab a carton.

He starts walking back towards the checkout area, but then, he can’t help himself.

Junhui switches directions and turns down the aisle he saw Minghao go down.

However, when he arrives, he’s only met with the sight of a teenager wearing some sort of colorful Christmas shirt. Definitely not Minghao.

But he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of him…

Junhui shakes himself out of his daze, and sprints back towards the cash registers, finding Fengjun just as he steps up to the front of the line.

“There you are,” his brother sighs in relief when Junhui appears. “What took you so long?”

“I got lost,” he lies. “Sorry.”

He helps Fengjun pile the groceries onto the conveyor belt, and tries to shove the ghost of Xu Minghao out of his mind.

—

A few days after the grocery store incident, his mother asks him to help her with yet another shopping-for-Christmas task. Only this time–

“I just need to do some last minute Christmas shopping,” she says. “And didn’t you say you needed to buy something for your brother?”

“Yes, but I can just get him something online,” he shrugs.

“If you order him something now, it’ll probably come in late,” his mother counters. “Just come with me, Junhui. Let’s get out of the house for once, okay?”

“Fine,” he gives in.

“Wonderful!” she beams, far too happy about shopping for Junhui’s liking. “Let me grab my things and we’ll go.”

Junhui walks outside to start the car, turning the heat all the way up as soon as he turns it on. Shenzhen got colder and colder every day, it seemed.

When his mother climbs into the passenger seat, she has a tinfoil-covered tray in her hands.

“What’s that?” he asks, eyeing the shiny object curiously.

“Oh, this?” she asks as she carefully balances the tray onto her lap. “It’s a gift. Cookies.”

“For who?”

“Some friends of mine. I need to deliver these to them, so start driving,” she says. “I’ll tell you where to go.”

Junhui knows better than to keep pestering his mother for info, so he simply obeys, putting the car into drive and starting down the road.

As his mother tells him where to turn, he feels like he vaguely recognizes a lot of these street names. Maybe it was just a side effect of living in Shenzhen for so long.

They pull into some neighborhood, and Junhui drives until his mother tells him to pull into one of the driveways.

As soon as he sees the house, he wants to put the car into reverse.

“Ma, what the fuck are we doing here.”

His mother unbuckles her seatbelt. “We’re delivering cookies. Now, put the car in park.”

“Ma,” he turns to her with wide eyes. “I can’t be here.”

“It’ll be fine, Junhui,” she says, clearly exasperated with his attitude. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m not getting out of this car.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Ma, please-”

“Junhui.”

“Ma?”

“Stop acting like a child and get out of the car,” she commands. “This won’t take long, I promise.”

Junhui relents, unbuckling his seatbelt reluctantly. They walk up the driveway together, and his mother passes him the tray of cookies to hold as she rings the doorbell.

When the door swings open, Junhui is hit with a wave of nostalgia.

“Oh my, is that Wen Junhui? What a lovely surprise!”

Minghao’s mom hasn’t changed a bit.

“Hi, Mrs. Xu,” he smiles politely. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she says, “but more importantly, how are you, my dear? It’s been, what, four years since I last saw you?”

“Five,” he and another voice correct her at the same time.

And then, from behind Mrs. Xu, there he is.

“Minghao,” he exhales quietly.

In that moment, he feels like he’s 18 again, standing outside Minghao’s door with excitement and nerves colliding in the pit of his stomach. Only he feels smaller than he did back then, more fearful than fearless.

Minghao’s hair is longer now, but still jet black and shiny, like he stepped out of a shampoo commercial. He's taller than Junhui remembers, but still shorter than him. He looks more mature now, eyes sharper and filled with a distant, faraway look, less innocent and naive.

It's almost hard to believe the Xu Minghao he once knew was behind all of that.

“Minghao, oh my goodness,” Junhui’s mother exclaims. “You’ve grown up so well!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Wen,” he smiles, but when he glances at Junhui, it seems to disappear.

“You two should come in,” Mrs. Xu says, opening the door wider. “Minghao and I were just about to make some tea.”

“Well, good thing we brought you some cookies to go with it then,” his mother says, stepping forward to enter the Xu’s home.

“I don’t think–”

“Ma, we should go–”

Neither of their mothers listen to their protests, and start chatting away, disappearing around the corner and leaving their sons standing in the doorway.

“Um,” Junhui says awkwardly, still out in the cold. He holds up the tray in his hands. “Cookie?”

Minghao doesn’t say anything. He just gives him a once over, before stepping to the side to let him inside. 

“Thanks,” Junhui says, toeing off his shoes and entering the familiar house. Christmas decor lines the whole house, red and green and silver and gold going as far as the eye can see. “I see that your mom still goes all out for the holidays, huh?”

Minghao still doesn’t say anything, nodding once and leading him to the kitchen. He points to a table for him to put the cookies on.

“So, um, how have you–”

“If my mother comes back, tell her I went upstairs,” he interrupts before Junhui can even get the question out.

Minghao goes without another word, leaving Junhui to stand in the kitchen alone.

When his mother and Mrs. Xu eventually join him, Junhui is already three cookies deep, stress eating away. His mother nags him for it on the ride to the mall, but he couldn’t help it.

Minghao was there, right there–

Yet it seemed like he wasn’t there at all.

—

soons: wanna meet for dinner tonight?

jun: sure where

soons: hm idk

soons: dk’s? @ 7?

jun: kk see u there

Junhui sits in the parking lot of DK’s, waiting for Soonyoung to arrive. He debates whether he should go in and grab a table, but decides to wait it out, mostly because he doesn’t want to abandon the warmth of his car.

soons: here

He shuts off the engine and approaches the front of the restaurant. Soonyoung flashes him a smile and a wave, then waves to someone behind Junhui.

Junhui turns around to see who it is, and stops in his tracks.

“Minghao?”

“I invited Hao, I hope you don’t mind,” Soonyoung says. “I realized he was in town, and thought ‘hey, we should all catch up!’”

“Right,” Junhui huffs. “Great.”

“You two stay here,” their friend says when they’re both standing under the restaurant awning. “I’ll go grab us a table.”

As soon as the door shuts behind Soonyoung, Minghao grips at his arm.

“Act normal.”

“What?” Junhui blinks in confusion.

“You need to pretend like we,” Minghao gestures between the two of them, “are normal. Like, we still get along.”

“Um, okay,” he says slowly. “Why?”

Minghao sighs defeatedly. “Soonyoung doesn’t know we aren’t on good terms.”

Junhui scoffs. “How would he not know that?”

“Look, I didn’t tell him all the details about our breakup, okay?”

“What? Why?”

“Because,” Minghao murmurs, “Soonyoung introduced us to each other and he was our only mutual best friend. I thought it would crush him to know that things didn’t end well, and so I just...left some parts out of our breakup. Plus, I didn’t want him to feel like he had to choose between us.”

Junhui raises an eyebrow skeptically. “You told him we agreed to be friends, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he glances away. “Look, can you just act like we’re friends for one night? For his sake? I mean, you’re an actor, you should be good at this. Consider it practice, rehearsal, I don’t know–”

“Relax, Hao,” he says. “I’ll do it.”

Minghao exhales in relief. “Thank you.”

The door opens, and Soonyoung appears with a grin. “There was a bit of a wait, but our table’s ready now!”

He exchanges a glance with Minghao, who flashes him a small smile, waving for him to go in first.

Junhui feels like he’s traveled back in time as he gestures for Minghao to go before him.

They start flailing their hands about, each trying to get the other to go in first. When they were together, they did this bit often, playing it up every time they went out to eat with friends. Junhui is surprised Minghao even remembers it.

“You guys haven’t changed a bit,” Soonyoung laughs. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

Minghao ends up entering first, flashing Junhui a thumbs up behind his back as they follow Soonyoung and their waiter to their table.

Dinner is filled with recalling the old days and talking about where people they grew up with ended up. It’s nice, talking about things that only few would understand. Since Minghao and Soonyoung had been there to experience majority of his early life alongside him, Junhui had an automatic solidarity with them.

Perhaps it’s that solidarity, that understanding that makes it so easy for him and Minghao to pretend to be friends all evening long.

They joke around like no time had passed at all. Minghao even references old jokes and tells stories about things that Junhui had nearly forgotten. It was nice to know that, at least, he hadn’t exiled Junhui out of his mind after all.

It feels weird to act like things are okay between them when it couldn’t be further from the truth, but Junhui enjoys himself anyway. He finds himself genuinely smiling and laughing with Minghao, and the warm feeling it gives him is nice.

It’s so nice that he wishes things could just stay like that.

“I’m so full,” Soonyoung groans when they leave the restaurant.

“Same,” Junhui says, patting his stomach.

“That’s because both of you ordered another round of cheeseburgers,” Minghao laughs.

“Says the salad eater,” Junhui quips, just to annoy Minghao.

“What can I say,” Soonyoung grins, slinging an arm around Junhui’s shoulders, “Jun and I weren’t called pigs in middle school for nothing.”

They all laugh together, warm breath visible in the cold chill surrounding them.

“Alright, I’d better get going,” Soonyoung sighs. “I’ve got the morning shift tomorrow. I’ll see you two later, we should do this again sometime!”

“Yeah, it was fun,” Junhui smiles. “See you, Soons.”

“Bye, Soon,” Minghao waves. “Stay safe on the road.”

“Love you two crazy kids,” Soonyoung says, waving dramatically as he walks off. “Good night!”

After he walks off, Minghao looks down at the watch on his wrist and sighs. “I guess I should start walking.”

“Walking?”

“I took the metro to get here,” he explains.

Junhui shakes his head. “No, you’re not walking in the cold. Let me give you a ride.”  
  
“Junhui, I–”

“Come on, Hao,” he says. “Do you really want to walk in the dark, anyways?”

Minghao crosses his arms. “No.”

“That’s what I thought. Come on, let’s get to the car before we freeze to death.”

After Minghao slides into the passenger side and mutters a quiet, “Thanks,” a deafening silence settles in Junhui’s car. The only noise comes from the icy road and the windshield wipers moving back and forth to combat the frost.

“Tonight was really nice,” Junhui starts. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“It was almost like no time had passed at all, you know?”

Minghao’s face stays turned towards the window. “Yeah.”

Junhui sighs in frustration. “Listen, Hao...I don’t want to keep doing this. I want us to be on good terms. I don’t want to have to put on an act every time we’re around Soonyoung, I just want it to be...real.”

Minghao says nothing.

“We don’t have to be friends, but...I just want things between us to be okay again. That’s all I want.”

He still says nothing, even as Junhui turns into his neighborhood.

“Do you think you’d ever be willing to, like, talk it out or something? I don’t know,” he says immediately after asking that, embarrassed. “I just don’t want us to be like this forever.”

He pulls into the Xu’s driveway, and Minghao opens the car door. Junhui assumes that he’ll just get out without saying a word, but he’s proven wrong.

“Tomorrow at noon, in the old parking lot behind the school,” Minghao says. “Let’s meet there to talk.”

He shuts the door as soon as the words leave his mouth, leaving Junhui in a stunned silence.

—

Junhui anxiously fiddles with the radio dial, trying to distract himself as he waits for Minghao to arrive.

He’d arrived half an hour early, thinking that he’d try and plan out what to say to the younger man. Unfortunately, he spent most of those 30 minutes trying to stop freaking out rather than planning an eloquent speech.

As soon as he hits all the Christmas music stations, there’s a little knock on his car window.

Junhui startles out of his anxious state, glancing over and seeing Minghao standing in the cold, coat pulled taut around his body. He quickly unlocks the door and lets him enter his warm car.

“Hi,” Junhui greets. “Do you want the seat warmer on?”

Minghao nods, and he turns it on for him. “Thanks. Were you waiting long?”

He figures it’s best not to mention that he intentionally showed up 30 minutes early. “Not really.”

“Good,” Minghao mutters against his hands, trying to warm them up with his breath. His nose has gone cherry red from the cold. It’s cute, Junhui thinks, then wants to hit himself for thinking that.

“It’s weird to see the school, huh?” Junhui remarks, doing his best to stay at ease. “Every time I come back and pass it, it feels weird to me. Time’s a funny thing.”

“Junhui,” he starts in that serious voice of his, “I thought you wanted to talk.”

“I mean, I do…”

“Then talk,” Minghao demands. “I’m not here to make small talk with you.”

It was as if last night had never even happened, the way Minghao went right back to being short with him, cold. Junhui briefly wonders if their dinner with Soonyoung had been a fever dream of some sort.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat awkwardly. “Um...well I guess I just wanted to say that...I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I know I broke up with you kind of suddenly–”

“But you didn’t just break up with me," he interrupts. "You broke up with me, then left for L.A. without telling me about it.”

“I know,” he looks down at his lap. “I know that was really, really shitty of me.”

“Yeah, it was,” Minghao sighs. “It was. I didn’t just lose you as a boyfriend, Jun, I lost my best friend, too. I know I had Soonyoung, but...I mean, you were my _best friend_. And you broke my heart, and then you were gone, all in one go.”

“I know.”

“I was the only one who didn’t know you were moving to L.A. Do you know how much it hurt when I realized that I was the only person you didn’t tell? I had to hear it from your brother, when I stupidly showed up to your house the next day,” Minghao laughs darkly. “I was crying so hard Fengjun could barely make out what I was saying.”

Junhui’s eyes widen. “He never told me about that.”

“He probably didn’t want to embarrass me,” Minghao shrugs. “But whatever, I was an emotional 17-year-old.”

Junhui turns to look at him. “I know whatever I say now is pretty useless, but I just need you to know–I didn’t want to tell you about L.A. because I knew you would wait for me to come back, but I didn’t want you to put your life on hold for me. Somewhere in my stupid teenage brain I thought...I thought it would be better to break your heart and leave.”

“I wish you’d at least said goodbye,” Minghao murmurs, lifting his hand to the window and drawing random figures against the foggy glass. “I think I would have been okay with a bit of closure.”

“It might not make sense, but I thought I was doing the right thing by not telling you about it or saying goodbye. I didn't want to give you false hope,” he explains. “I wanted to make you hate me, so that it would be easier, less painful when you found out I was gone.”

“It would have been painful either way, Junhui.”

“Right,” he sighs, sinking into his seat. “Well, at least I succeeded at one part of my plan–I definitely made you hate me.”

Minghao eyes him curiously, before going back to his window drawings. “Well, what’s passed is past, as they say. We were only kids then.”

“Yeah,” Junhui chuckles sadly. “Really, really dumb kids.”

“So, let’s just call it even then, shall we?”

He stares at the younger man. “What do you mean?”

“A truce,” Minghao shrugs, drawing a figure eight with his finger. “It’s about time we move on from our past, don’t you think?”

“Uh, I guess…”

“Then it’s settled,” Minghao says resolutely, taking his hand off the glass and holding it out to Junhui. “I won’t resent you if you don’t resent me.”

Junhui grabs Minghao’s cold hand and shakes it firmly. “I mean, sounds good to me.”

“Great,” Minghao smiles, opening the car door. “I’ll see you around, then. Bye, Junhui.”

“Bye, old friend,” he jokes, smiling when Minghao rolls his eyes goodnaturedly.

He watches Minghao disappear in the distance, and wonders all the way home why he still feels like he’s waiting for him to arrive.

—

Junhui spends the next few days helping his parents around the house, trying to get everything in order for the holiday season. He wakes up every morning and drives Fengjun to school, then comes home and helps his mother cook and bake and wrap presents, chops firewood and strings lights with his father.

He enjoys it, because it keeps his mind preoccupied and away from thoughts of a certain Xu Minghao.

“Junhui,” his mother calls out, “you’ve got mail!”

“Coming!” he shouts back, sticking the last piece of tape on his present for his father, then heading to the kitchen.

His mother hands him a shiny gold envelope, with a red wax seal on the back. He raises an eyebrow at the sight. No one ever really sent him anything, and he has no idea who would send him something as fancy as this.

But when he opens it, it all makes sense.

“It’s an invite to Kun’s holiday party,” he explains to his mother.

“Oh? When is it?”

“Saturday.”

“You should go,” she suggests. “With an invitation like that, it’s bound to be good. Plus, you’ve been cooped up in this house all week. Go out and have some fun.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll think about it.”

So that’s how he ends up at Kun’s on Saturday night, sitting in the kitchen as Kun’s boyfriend, Ten, and his friends chant for him to toss back yet another shot.

Junhui swallows it down with ease, no longer affected by the burn of the alcohol. 

“Oh shit, Jun’s already getting drunk?!” exclaims a very familiar voice.

He sets the empty shot glass on the counter. “Hey, Soon.”

Soonyoung pouts. “You started without me, bro. Not cool.”

“Catch up with me then,” he says, pouring out two shots of tequila for his friend.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Soonyoung says, taking both shots in one go and wincing afterwards. “Fuck, that burns. Where’s Kun by the way?”

Junhui shrugs. “Somewhere in the crowd out there. He has a lot more friends than I thought.”

“Pretty sure they’re all Ten’s friends,” he corrects. “Dude seems like he’s pretty popul–”

“Soon!” calls yet another familiar voice. “Are you in here?”

Junhui whips his head around to see the bane of his existence–Minghao. Of course.

“Oh, Hao! Sorry, I should have waited for you back there,” Soonyoung says apologetically. “Come take some shots with me and Jun.”

Minghao squeezes through the crowded kitchen to make his way over to them. “What are we drinking?”

“Tequila,” Junhui answers, but reaches over to grab the wine bottle nearby and a glass, filling it up halfway. “You still like red?”

“Um, yeah,” Minghao says, taking the wine glass gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Ugh, I forgot Minghao was no fun,” Soonyoung complains. “You’re not even gonna have one shot?”

The younger man shrugs, sipping at his wine. “They’re just not my thing.”

“More for us, Soons,” Junhui points out.

“I like your thinking, Jun-ah,” Soonyoung grins. “Another?”

Junhui loses track of how many shots he and Soonyoung take, how many glasses of wine Minghao pours for himself, but he’s sure it was more than a normal amount.

Because hours later he ends up getting lost in Kun’s house, sprawled on a bed in a random room, head positively swimming as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Junhui? Is that you?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles.

“I’ve been looking for you and Soonyoung everywhere,” Minghao says, collapsing next to him on the bed. “I think Soon abandoned us for the dance floor, though.”

Junhui snorts. “Not surprising. Why’d you come to this thing anyway? I didn’t know you were friends with Kun.”

“I only know of him,” Minghao sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. He must have a headache from the wine, Junhui thinks. He always used to get those. “Soonyoung brought me here as his plus one, I guess.”

“I see.”

Minghao turns his head to the side, facing Jun. “You remembered. The wine.”

“Of course,” he replies. “I still can’t forget that summer we stole that bottle of red from your dad’s cabinet and drank it in the woods.”

Minghao giggles at the memory. “That was a good time. You know, I don’t think any of my other exes would ever remember what I like to drink.”

“Red wines or champagne,” Junhui recites immediately. “No hard liquor, ever.”

“You know me too well, Wen Junhui.”

“I know.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How drunk are you right now?”

Junhui turns on his side to meet Minghao’s gaze. “Like, on a scale of one to ten?”

“More like...do you think you’ll remember this in the morning?”

“Do you _want_ me to remember this in the morning?”

“Just answer the question, Junhui.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll remember this, yeah. Why?”

Minghao stares into his eyes, face so close Junhui can see all the imperfections in his skin, his faded scars and tiny pores. He is just as beautiful as ever, even after all this time.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Junhui feels like they’re little kids again, huddled under blankets in Soonyoung’s treehouse, whispering ghost stories in the dark. “You can tell me anything, Hao."

“Your plan didn’t succeed at all.”

“What do you mean?” he frowns in confusion.

“You said the other day that you succeeded in part of your plan–that you made me hate you,” Minghao explains. "But I never hated you. Not once, even after everything.”

Junhui is suddenly feeling more and more sober by the minute. “Really?”

“Really.”

“You should hate me, even I would hate me,” Junhui blurts out. “How can you not for what I did?”

“I tried, believe me,” he scoffs. “I don’t know. I just...couldn’t, somehow.”

Junhui stares at Minghao for a long moment, lost in awe. He had put him through so much pain, and yet, here he was, telling Junhui that he harbored no hatred towards him.

“You’re too good to me, Minghao. You always were,” he murmurs.

Minghao reaches out and tucks a piece of Junhui’s hair behind his ear. “I know. It’s because it was you.”

“But I don’t deserve your kindness,” Junhui insists. “Hell, I don’t even deserve your forgiveness.”

“I think you do,” Minghao says softly, brushing his thumb against Junhui’s cheek. “I want to forgive you. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“I suppose,” he says, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair off Minghao’s nose. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” Minghao says, then hums in realization to himself. “There’s a mole on your temple.”

“Oh, yeah,” Junhui presses his fingertips to it. “That one appeared a couple years ago.”

“Oh,” Minghao mumbles. “No wonder I didn’t remember it.”

Junhui laughs. “You remember my moles? What, did you name all of them or something, Hao?”

“No,” he retorts. “I just...sometimes, when I had trouble sleeping, I would count your moles to help me fall asleep.”

“You what?!” he sputters, laughing. “Oh my god, you never told me that!”

“Because I knew you would make fun of me for it!”

“You counted my moles! What are they, sheep?”

“It was soothing for me, okay?!” he says defensively. “This is exactly why I never told you!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, trying to stop laughing. “Now, show me how you would count my moles.”

Minghao pouts cutely. “You’re just going to make fun of me again.”

“I promise I won’t. Show me.”

Minghao trains his eyes on Junhui’s face, focusing hard, like he was performing a super difficult task. It’s so adorable that Junhui aches.

“One,” Minghao says under his breath, pressing a finger to the mole at the top of Junhui’s forehead. “Two.” The mole above his eyebrow. “Three.” The one near his eye. “Four.” The one on his cheek. “Five…”

The mole right above his upper lip.

Minghao stops counting, finger pressed to his lip mole. Junhui holds his breath; the air feels so thin between them he’s scared it may break.

And then, Minghao starts leaning in, and Junhui decides to meet him halfway.

Their lips fit together like two puzzle pieces, and the taste of the wine on Minghao’s mouth takes Junhui right back to that one golden summer, the days where they did nothing but get drunk on one another and felt on top of the world.

Kissing Minghao makes him feel on top of the world, and Junhui kisses him harder, deeper, so that he can stay there just a bit longer.

—

Junhui jolts awake.

The sun is far too bright for his liking, but he doesn’t want to reach over and shut the blinds. Not when the bed he’s in is warm, so warm. He doesn’t even know how he’s staying so warm, especially since he’s completely–

Naked. He is very, very naked.

As soon as he realizes that fact, the memories of last night come rushing in all at once.

Making out with Minghao, laughing as they struggled to get out of their clothes, touching Minghao’s soft, smooth skin everywhere he could reach, Minghao writhing against him–

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Junhui looks to his right, and is met with the sight of Minghao’s bare back, further proving that everything they did last night was definitely real and definitely not something Junhui had dreamed up.

He leans forward to check if he’s still asleep, feeling immense relief when he sees that Minghao’s eyes are still shut.

Junhui falls back against the pillows, running a hand through his hair. How the fuck was Minghao going to react to this?

Sure, neither of them had been that drunk by the time things started to...escalate, but it was still possible that Minghao was just acting off the alcohol in his system. They were still in a weird place before last night.

Junhui starts quietly ruminating next to a sleeping Minghao, expecting the worst when he eventually wakes up. There was no way he wouldn’t regret saying all those things to Junhui, let alone _sleeping_ with him. He probably won’t speak to Junhui ever again after this, just give him the cold shoulder for eternity.

Right when he thinks about making a break for it, Minghao stirs awake, stretching out his limbs until they pop.

“Mm, Junhui?” he murmurs, words slightly muffled by the pillow.

“Yeah?” he asks, stomach twisting with nervousness.

Minghao rolls over to face him. “Why aren’t you cuddling me?” he whines. “My arms are cold.”

Junhui chuckles, wrapping his arms around Minghao’s tiny frame and pulling him closer. “Sorry,” he says, relaxing against his body with relief.

“You were freaking out, weren’t you?”

“What? No.”

“You definitely were,” Junhui feels him smile against his chest, “I can tell.”

Junhui doesn’t even want to know how Minghao could read him so easily.

“Were you worried I’d forget last night?”

“I was more worried that you’d regret last night,” he admits. “Since we just started being on talking terms again…”

Minghao looks up at him fondly. “Well, I don’t regret last night at all. Do you?”

“Absolutely not,” he grins, carding a hand through Minghao’s soft, dark hair. “Last night was incredible.”

“I’m glad we agree,” Minghao smiles, before burying his face into Junhui’s chest again.

“So...where do we go from here, then?”

Minghao sighs. “Can’t go five seconds without ruining the moment, can you?”

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, trying to relax in Minghao’s hold and stop overthinking everything.

“Let’s meet tomorrow at the old parking lot again. We can go from there,” Minghao suggests.

“Okay,” he agrees, then scowls. “Don’t throw my own words back at me. Plagiarism.”

“Too late,” Minghao smirks up at him. “Wanna punish me for it?”

“Fucking brat,” Junhui mutters, reaching down to tickle at Minghao’s sides.

He kisses Minghao in between all of his incessant giggling, and briefly thinks that this bed may be the warmest bed he’s ever been in.

—

Minghao swings Junhui's car door open and slams it shut.

"Drive."

"Hello to you too," Junhui says.

"Junhui."

"Your wish is my command," he caves, backing out of the parking lot and pulling onto the road. "Where should we go?"

"Anywhere," Minghao sighs. "Sorry, I know I said we would talk, but...my parents pissed me off and I need to get out of the house for a while."

“Okay, we can just ride around, that’s fine,” he says, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he thinks of where to take him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he replies. “It wasn’t a major fight or anything, I just...you know how sometimes when you come back home everything feels suffocating?”

Junhui understood the feeling entirely.

“I just need to get away for a second, breathe without my mother breathing down my neck,” Minghao mutters.

“I think I know a place we can go, then.”

Fifteen minutes later, Junhui pulls off onto a side road and starts driving up a hill. He can feel Minghao eyeing both him and the path in front of them warily.

“Where are we going?” he asks worriedly. “The middle of nowhere?”

“Do you seriously not remember this place? I guess it only took five years for you to forget Shenzhen entirely,” Junhui quips.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t memorize the entire map of Shenzhen,” Minghao retorts. “Seriously, where are we, Jun?”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember the most famous spot in all of Shenzhen–The Field.”

The Field was well-known–at least, during Jun and Minghao’s prime–as the best spot for ‘looking at the city lights.’ In other words, it was the best, most secluded area for making out.

“We’re going to The Field?!”

“Correction,” Junhui says, putting the car in park. “We’re already at The Field.”

In front of them is all of Shenzhen, their city made up of tiny dots of light and distant buildings, and around them, fields of grains stretch out for miles amongst the dirt. It isn’t the most glamorous place in the world, an empty, dusty field that just barely overlooks the city, but it served its purpose.

"If you wanted to get in my pants tonight you could've just asked, Wen Junhui," Minghao smirks. "You didn't have to take me all the way out here."

"T-that's not why I brought you here!" he protests. "I just thought, 'what's a good place to yell and let out all your frustrations?' and The Field was the first place I thought of."

"Hmm, sounds like a lie, but okay."

"I'm being serious! Come on, let's go for a scream or two, shall we?" he says, moving to get out of the car.

Minghao grabs his arm before he can even open the door.

"How about we stay in the car, and you can make me scream in the backseat instead?"

Junhui stares at him for all of five seconds, then leans in to collide his lips with Minghao's, kissing him as frantically and passionately as he did when they were teenagers.

Minghao's plush lips still taste like vanilla-flavored lip balm, just like they did back then. Junhui can't help but smile into the kiss at the thought, some things really never changed.

"Mm, we should move to the back," Minghao murmurs against his mouth.

"But I've barely kissed you," Junhui frowns.

Minghao presses a quick peck to the corner of his lips. "You can kiss me later. I haven't stopped thinking about your dick since yesterday, and I kind of need it inside me."

"Christ," Junhui mutters, Minghao's words going straight to his dick. "Backseat it is."

He gets out of the car and slides into the back, Minghao doing the same. As soon as they’re back inside, Minghao lifts his hips up so he can slip out of his pants.

When he finally works them off, he reaches over and starts undoing Junhui's belt.

"You couldn't do this while I was taking off my shit?" Minghao asks, brow furrowed in frustration.

"I got distracted watching you take off your pants," Junhui grins, waggling his eyebrows at him.

"You're so fucking annoying," he rolls his eyes, tugging Junhui's jeans down to his ankles before pulling something out of the coat he left in the front. "Here, lube up your fingers."

"Were you just carrying lube on you this whole time?!"

"I...like to come prepared," Minghao answers shyly, ears turning red.

"Oh, so you were prepared to have sex with whoever you ran into today?" Junhui teases.

"Shut up," he slaps at Junhui's arm. "You know it's for you."

Junhui’s heart lurches at the words. He tries to act unfazed, focusing on pouring the lube out onto his fingers and warming it up with his body heat.

Suddenly, Minghao swings his leg over Junhui's thighs, positioning himself onto his lap like he belongs there.

"Hi," Junhui smiles up at him.

"Hi," Minghao smiles back, the orange and pink of the sunset outside casting a warm glow across his face. "How are you doing?"

"Wonderful," he inhales sharply. "I have a lap full of a very beautiful boy right now, so...I'm doing wonderful."

Minghao flushes and looks away, muttering under his breath, “So annoying…”

Junhui takes it upon himself to start circling one of his fingers around Minghao’s rim, just ghosting the entrance. Minghao yelps at the sudden touch, gripping onto Junhui’s biceps to steady himself.

“Not so annoying now, hm?” Junhui hums, slowly pushing the first digit inside of Minghao’s tight heat.

The younger man lets out a soft moan, grinding down onto Junhui’s lap in retaliation. Junhui groans at the sweet friction.

“Another,” Minghao says breathily, rolling his hips in desperation. “Please, Junnie…”

Junhui suddenly realizes how long it’s been since he’s last heard that nickname, since Minghao was the only one who really used it. For a moment, he feels the long distance between them, in spite of the closeness of their bodies–five years.

_How has Minghao spent the past five years?_

Junhui blinks out of his reverie just as Minghao lets out a long whine, and slides a second finger inside him. He carefully starts working them in and out of Minghao’s hole at a steady pace, stretching him open.

“Ah, Jun,” he whimpers. “Can I–fuck–can I ride you?”

“Shit, yeah,” Junhui agrees. “Are you sure you’re stretched enough?”

“I’m fine,” Minghao insists, then swats at his arm. “Now come on, pull out.”

Junhui scissors his fingers inside of Minghao one last time, just to make him moan, before he slowly eases them out of his hole.

Minghao places his hands on Junhui’s shoulders and lifts himself up, balancing his weight on his knees on either side of Junhui’s thighs. He reaches down and tries to feel for Junhui’s dick, accidentally shoving his chest against the elder’s face.

“Hao,” he laughs, “if you wanted me to put my face in your tits, you could’ve just asked.”

“Shut up,” Minghao mutters, finally grabbing hold of the base of Junhui’s hard cock, positioning it so that the tip is nestled in between his ass. Just as he’s about to sink onto it, his body stills, and he lets out a sigh that blows his bangs astray.

“Junhui, we forgot the condom.”

He groans, head falling back against the headrest. “Dammit. Did you happen to bring one with your lube?”

“No,” Minghao retorts. “Do you have one in your wallet or something?”

“Unlike you, I don’t carry around protection in case someone decides to bone me,” Junhui quips, then nods toward the front of the car. “Check the console.”

Minghao leans back, somehow even more flexible as an adult, and opens the compartment to hunt for condoms. He digs around for a minute, then pulls one out with a victorious smile on his face.

“Found one,” he hands it to Junhui. “Put that shit on.”

Junhui tears open the package carefully, then awkwardly tries to maneuver himself around Minghao’s body to roll the condom onto his member.

“Hold on,” he mutters, pressing a hand to Minghao’s back as he reaches down to put it on. “Okay, we’re good now.”

Minghao resumes his earlier position, gripping Junhui’s base and finally sinking onto his cock, taking him in inch by inch. Junhui closes his eyes at the feeling of the slow, warm pressure on his aching dick.

“God, why do you have to be so big?” Minghao huffs when he’s halfway, a light sheen of sweat already glistening on his forehead.

Junhui chuckles. “Do you want me to help you out a bit?”

“Yes, but,” he looks at him with wide eyes, “go slow.”

“I will, I promise.”

Junhui slides his hands up Minghao’s thighs to grip at his hips instead, then slowly pushes his own hips upwards, burying himself deeper into Minghao’s tight hole. 

Before he can push completely inside, Minghao’s walls clench around him like a vice, keeping him firmly in place. Junhui lets out a silent moan at the sensation.

“I can take it from here,” Minghao murmurs into Junhui’s ear, one hand wrapping around the back of the elder’s neck as he steadily sinks down to the base of his dick.

Junhui squeezes at Minghao’s hips when his ass meets Junhui’s thighs, his length finally all the way inside of him. He continues tracing his hands up Minghao’s sides, pressing light kisses to his chest and neck to help the younger relax.

Eventually, Minghao’s shoulders drop and he lets out a content sigh as he finishes adjusting to Junhui’s size. He then leans down to pull Junhui’s mouth to his, kissing him sloppily while starting to grind on Junhui’s lap.

“Fuck,” he exhales against Minghao’s lips, “you’re so fucking hot, Hao.”

Minghao merely hums in response, then licks into Junhui’s mouth. He continues kissing him as he begins to ride him, lifting his hips up until Junhui’s still half inside him, then sliding back down until his ass slams onto Junhui’s thighs again.

His pace is slow, but it pushes Junhui deeper inside his hole every time. Minghao can’t help but moan whenever Junhui’s cock presses against his sweet spot when he rolls his body the right way. The pleasure is so intense, his thighs begin to shake as he pushes himself up.

Meanwhile, for Junhui, Minghao’s pace is complete torture. It takes everything in him to not grip Minghao’s sides and thrust up into his ass, taking control. He fights the urge by colliding his tongue against Minghao’s, savoring the faint hints of vanilla he picks up every time his tongue slides past his lips.

“Junnie,” Minghao mumbles into his mouth, “can you touch me? I don’t think ‘m gonna last much longer…”

Junhui reaches down to where Minghao’s cock is trapped between their bodies, pressed against Junhui’s stomach. He wraps his hand around it, circling his thumb around the swollen, leaking head of his cock.

Minghao shudders when he lightly thumbs at his slit, making Junhui smirk. He liked having the younger like this, so desperate to unravel.

“You’re doing so well, baobei,” Junhui murmurs, rubbing his free hand against Minghao’s left thigh. “You’re so good at riding me, your body feels fucking incredible…”

“Mm, Junnie,” he whimpers, hip movements getting sloppier as he gets closer. “I can’t, I need–fuck!”

“Gonna come, baobei?” Minghao nods frantically, thighs shaking hard as he lifts himself up again. “Come for me, then. Come, Hao.”

Minghao slams his ass down onto his cock one last time, and comes against Junhui’s chest with a loud cry, his tiny frame shaking with pleasure.

Junhui presses gentle kisses to Minghao’s shoulder and neck until he calms down, sighing contentedly when he comes down from his high.

“Fuck, that was so good,” Minghao murmurs. “Do you need me to keep riding you?”

“I think I can take it from here,” Junhui says cheekily. “Unless you’re too sensitive now?”

Minghao shakes his head, and that’s all the initiative Junhui needs to take Minghao by the hips, holding him in place as he begins to thrust upwards into his tight hole.

Junhui can barely keep a consistent pace, too overwhelmed with pleasure and desperate to come. He fucks Minghao fast and rough, trying to reach his high as fast as possible.

“Christ, Jun,” Minghao chuckles in disbelief, hand in his hair. “You might make me come twice, fucking me like that. Fuck.”

Junhui moans at his words, and with one final, hard thrust, he comes deep inside Minghao.

When the aftershocks of pleasure finally leave his body, Junhui lifts his head tiredly off the headrest to look at Minghao.

“Are you really going to come again, or…?”

“Hell no,” Minghao scoffs. “I’m way too tired to come again. I just said that to help you finish.”

“How’d you know I would even come from that?”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, then says in a terrible impression of Junhui’s voice, “‘Minghao, come on, it’d be so hot if you came multiple times in a row! Let’s just try it once.’”

“I never said that!”

“You said that _several_ times while we were dating. I figured the kink probably lasted into adulthood, and look, I was right,” Minghao says smugly.

“Whatever,” Junhui grumbles, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “I stand by teenage me, it would be hot if you came multiple times in a row.”

“Of course,” he snorts. 

They’re silent for a moment, Minghao tracing random patterns against Junhui’s skin whilst Junhui catches his breath, staring out at the fogged up windshield.

“By the way,” Minghao murmurs, keeping his gaze downcast as he continues tracing, “why did you call me baobei?”

“What?” Junhui asks, trying to play it off. “I didn’t call you that.”

“You did, just now.”

“I don’t remember it,” he shrugs.

Minghao stares at him for a long moment before sighing and giving up. “Okay, sure. Whatever.”

“But if I did call you baobei,” Junhui says suddenly, “would you like that? I mean, like, hypothetically.”

“Hmm, hypothetically…” Minghao wonders aloud, leaning in until his lips just brush against Junhui’s. “I think I would like that a lot.”

“Okay, then,” he murmurs, “baobei.”

He kisses Minghao passionately, capturing his lips like they were his to claim.

They kiss until the sun completely disappears from the sky, leaving nothing but stars in its wake.

When they finally clean themselves up, part from each other, and get dressed again, Minghao starts quietly giggling as he slips his coat back on.

“I still can’t believe we almost forgot the condom,” he laughs.

“Yeah,” Junhui laughs along with him. “God, we’re stupid.”

“Can you imagine if we didn’t have one? That would’ve been awful.”

“I don’t know about awful,” Junhui shrugs. “I mean, I haven’t had sex in a while, so. I’m pretty sure I’m still clean from my last test. We would’ve been okay.”

“Oh, well…” Minghao rubs at the back of his neck. “I haven’t been tested in a while, so better safe than sorry, I guess.”

Junhui knew what Minghao really meant by that one: Unlike you, I _have_ had sex recently.

“Always better safe than sorry,” he shoots him a tight smile before opening the car door and climbing back into the driver’s seat.

On the drive back home, Junhui’s mind wanders right back to the question that’s been creeping into his thoughts since he first saw Minghao again–

_How has Minghao spent the past five years?_

—

They start developing a routine, meeting up every afternoon and riding around aimlessly until long after the sun sets.

Sometimes they’ll fuck at The Field or make out in abandoned parking lots, but mostly, they just talk. They talk fondly about their shared childhood memories, joke about awkward incidents when they first started dating, recount their first meeting on their school playground (all thanks to Soonyoung).

Junhui works up the courage one day to ask, “What about now?”

Minghao turns to the side to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me about your life now,” he says. “You still haven’t told me anything about what you’ve done while I’ve been gone.”

“Oh,” he murmurs. “Well, it’s not all that interesting. Certainly nothing compared to what you’re doing in L.A.”

“I don’t mind, I still want to hear about it.”

Minghao takes a deep breath in the seat next to him. “Alright, I guess I’ll start at the beginning.”

He tells him all about his four years at university, the friends he’d made there, the adventures he’d had. He talks about struggling to choose a profession to pursue, torn between going the business route like his father or following the dream he’d had the entire time Junhui had known him–art.

“I ended up majoring in business,” he says, “but I took art lessons secretly, behind my parents’ backs. I even got to participate in a gallery exhibit in Shanghai once, and met some artists I really admire.”

“Yeah?” Junhui smiles, proud of all Minghao had accomplished in their time apart. “So are you still doing art now?”

“It’s...complicated,” he sighs. “After I graduated, my dad immediately started talking about me working with him and eventually taking his position at the company when he retired–but I didn’t want that. Art is the only thing I want to do. So, the day after my dad told me he would get me an internship at his company, I bolted. I left home to live with a friend in Anshan, and I stayed there for a year.”

“And you haven’t been back to Shenzhen ‘til now?”

“Yeah. By my third year of uni, I stopped visiting, against my parents’ wishes,” Minghao reveals. “Every time I came back, it was just too much. I fought with my parents a lot, about little things, but I just...felt suffocated with them. During the holidays, I usually stayed with friends or whoever I was dating at the time.”

“Oh,” Junhui murmurs, trying not to think too hard about the ‘whoevers’ Minghao had dated. “So are you, uh, living with someone? Right now?”

“I’m staying with my friend, Sicheng, in Wenzhou at the moment. He’s a nice guy.”

Junhui hums in acknowledgement. “Why come back to Shenzhen now, though?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen my parents, so I figured it was time,” Minghao shrugs. “‘Tis the season, and all that. Plus, my mom told me you were coming back to town, and I wanted to see you.”

“You did?” he asks excitedly.

“No,” Minghao scoffs. “You think I wanted to see your dumbass again?”

Junhui gives him an exaggerated pout. “You’re so mean to me.”

“I’m just kidding, you giant child,” he giggles, placing his hand over where Junhui has his rested on the gear shift. “I actually didn’t know you would be here, but I’m really, really glad that you are.”

“Yeah?”

Minghao hums, playing with Junhui’s fingers. “Yeah. Shenzhen is better with you in it.”

Junhui beams at that and gives Minghao’s hand a squeeze.

“Shenzhen is better with you in it, too, baobei.”

—

“Junhui, I’ve decided to invite the Xus over for dinner tonight. Clean your room and then come help me cook, okay?”

–is the last thing Junhui would have expected his mother to wake him up with on a Friday morning.

“Ma!” he shouts after her retreating figure. “What? Why didn’t you tell me before you decided to invite them?”

“Since when do I have to run all my decisions by you, hm, Wen Junhui?” she retorts. “Hurry and tidy up!”

Junhui groans and goes back into his messy bedroom. With a sigh, he starts picking up the clothes he’d strewn about and makes his bed.

His mind wanders to Minghao as he cleans, thinking about how long it’s been since he’d last been inside his room, inside the Wen household. It would be odd to see him here now, just as odd as Junhui feels being back.

“Jun, come help!” his mother calls.

With another sigh, he starts down the stairs to go assist her, already dreading tonight.

Hours later, when they practically have an entire feast cooked up, their doorbell rings.

“Oh, they’re here!” his mother exclaims, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Let’s go and greet them.”

As they walk towards the door behind her, Junhui looks at Fengjun and mouths a ‘please kill me,’ to which his little brother merely laughs.

“Ah, Minghao! So lovely to see you dear,” his mother says, pulling Minghao in for a hug.

Junhui’s eyes widen when he realizes Minghao is the only one at the door.

“What the hell is happening right now,” he whispers to his brother.

“I think Ma invited your boyfriend over for dinner,” Fengjun whispers back, just as surprised as Junhui.

"He is not my boyfriend," he mutters.

"No, of course not," Fengjun rolls his eyes. "You're only with him 24/7. Every time I ask you to hang out with me, 'sorry, I'm with Minghao right now.' Asshole."

Junhui digs his elbow into Fengjun's side until he yelps.

“Boys, aren’t you going to say hello to Minghao?”

“Hello, Minghao ge,” his brother greets politely.

“Hi, Hao,” Junhui smiles at him, trying to disguise his distress.

Minghao gives them both a little wave. “Hi.”

“Come in and eat,” their mother says with a warm smile. “We made plenty of food.”

As Fengjun leads Minghao to their dining room, Junhui tugs at his mother’s sleeve and whispers, “Ma, when you said the Xus were coming for dinner, I thought you meant _all_ of the Xus. Not just Minghao.”

“Well, you misheard me,” she says. “Now come help me bring in the tea. Minghao likes green, right?”

“Ma, don’t lie to me. Why did you only invite Hao over?”

“Because Minghao is part of our family, Junhui. I know you two ended things, but he’s still part of it. And that boy has always needed that–a family,” she sighs. “So yes, I lied to you, but I knew you would never let me do this otherwise.”

Junhui goes quiet, watching his mother pour out cups of tea as he takes in her words.

“I know I don’t know everything that’s happened between you two,” she continues, “so I’m sure this is hard for you. But please, for my sake, just act civilly towards him tonight. Just for one night, for your old Ma?”

“You don’t have to worry about that Ma,” he says, patting her shoulder gently before picking up two cups of the tea.

“Good,” she smiles up at him, then leads them to where Fengjun and Minghao are already seated at the dining table.

“Oh, Junhui!” Minghao exclaims when he enters the room. “Fengjun and I were just talking about that game we used to play when we were kids, where one of us had to lie on the trampoline, then get up and chase the others? Do you remember it?”

“Oh, that zombie game?” he asks, setting down a cup of tea in front of Minghao before taking the seat next to him. “I remember Fengjun always caught me first!”

“That’s because you always fell!” his brother says.

As the three of them laugh at the memory, Junhui catches his mother’s gaze for a second. She has a wide smile on her face as she watches them, eyes twinkling with fondness.

It’s then that Junhui realizes that Minghao had been important not just to him, but to all of them, all this time. 

Throughout dinner, the four of them swap stories about the past, laugh at Junhui’s mother’s embarrassing stories about all three boys, discuss the latest gossip at Fengjun’s high school, listen to Junhui and Minghao talk about their big city escapades.

It’s the best dinner Junhui’s had in a long time.

Somehow, they talk and eat until the sky goes dark, and Junhui finds that he doesn’t want this evening to end.

“It’s getting dark,” he muses, glancing out the nearby window. “I don’t think you should walk to the metro at this hour, Hao.”

“Oh, heaven’s no,” his mother frowns. “You should just stay here for the night, Minghao.”

“Well...okay, Minghao agrees. “As long as it’s not too much trouble.”

“Nonsense,” she shakes her head. “You know you’re always welcome here, for as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I’ll let my mother know I’m staying here.”

“Wonderful. Fengjun,” she says suddenly, “let’s go wash these dirty dishes.”

As soon as the two of them walk out of the dining room, Junhui pulls Minghao in for a kiss.

“What are you doing, Jun?!” he hisses, pulling away after a few seconds. “Your family’s literally in the next room.”

“Stay in my room, tonight,” he whispers, interlacing his fingers with Minghao’s, “with me.”

“If this is just a ploy to get me to have sex with you tonight, I swear…”

“No, nothing like that,” Junhui starts swinging their hands back and forth. “I just...want you to stay with me tonight, is all. Like old times.”

Minghao smiles at that. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Junhui smiles back.

“God, you guys are still as gross as ever,” Fengjun scowls in disgust, standing in the doorway. Junhui pouts when Minghao pulls away from him entirely, letting go of his hands.

“What do you want, Fengjun?” he sighs. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Ma just wanted me to ask Minghao if he needed anything before she went to bed, geez.”

“I’m alright,” Minghao says politely. “Tell her I said thank you and good night.”

“Got it,” Fengjun says, turning to walk away, then stopping in his tracks. “If you guys are gonna be, uh, _loud_ tonight, can you give me a head’s up first?”

“Get out, Fengjun,” Junhui says through gritted teeth. “Now.”

“Damn, okay, I’m going!”

When he finally rounds the corner, Junhui buries his face into his hands and lets out a long groan. Minghao merely giggles at his embarrassed state.

“I hate it here,” he whines.

Minghao pats his back soothingly and coos, “My poor little Huihui.”

Junhui lifts his head to glare at him for using his childhood nickname. “You’re the worst.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Huihui.”

“Let’s just go to bed,” Junhui huffs, standing from his chair and marching towards the stairs, a giggling Minghao in tow. He clutches Minghao by the hand, and drags him up the staircase until they reach his bedroom.

Once he shuts the door, Junhui tackles Minghao, who’s still giggling away at his misery, and pins him against his bed.

“Not so funny now, is it?” he smirks victoriously, watching the younger flail below him.

“It’s still pretty funny,” Minghao gasps out, breath completely knocked out of him. “Get off me, Junhui!”

“What’s in it for me, huh?”

“I won’t knee you in the balls if you get off of me,” he mutters. “Fair trade?”

Junhui backs away instantly, hands raised in mock surrender. “Deal.”

Minghao then sits up, perched on the edge of Junhui’s bed. He sweeps his cascading hair out of his eyes, before looking around his room, observing it as if it were a wondrous sight to behold.

“Wow,” he muses as his eyes scan the room. “Nothing’s changed at all.”

Junhui chuckles, taking a seat next to Minghao on the bed. “Yeah, I’m not really around much to change up the decor, so…”

“Right,” Minghao murmurs, turning to face Junhui. “I feel like I’ve gone back in time.”

“I feel like that too, sometimes,” he says. “It’s weird, right?”

“Yeah,” Minghao sighs, falling onto his back and reaching over to pluck something off Junhui’s pillows. “Not as weird as you still sleeping with this frog plushie I gave you.”

“Shut up,” he huffs, trying to swipe the frog out of his grasp.

Minghao holds it out farther away from him. “When did I give you this again? Your 8th birthday?”

“I said shut up!” Junhui whines, finally grabbing hold of the plushie and clutching it to his chest. “I just...really like it, okay?”

Minghao looks over at him, eyes fond and smile soft. “Okay.”

Junhui gazes into his big, warm brown eyes and feels sparks igniting in the pit of his stomach. For a split second, he feels like they’re 17 again, lying on his bed and staring at each other like they’re trying to memorize the sight, so certain and sure that everything good would last.

He blinks back to reality.

“Do you wanna get under the covers now?” he asks softly, and Minghao nods.

They peel back Junhui’s sheets, and Junhui gets under them first, holding his arms out for Minghao to slot himself into. It takes a bit of maneuvering for both of them to fit on the small bed, but they eventually make it work.

“I can’t believe I used to think your bed was the best place on earth,” Minghao snorts.

“I know right?” Junhui laughs. “I don’t know how I ever slept here.”

“Home is home,” he says, then, after a beat: “Tonight was really fun. I missed your mom and Fengjun.”

Junhui buries his nose into Minghao’s soft hair. “They missed you too, baobei.”

“It really felt like the old days,” Minghao says, words muffled as he nestles his face into Junhui’s chest. “Like when we first started dating, and I came over for family dinners.”

“It really did feel like that,” he agrees. “Man, I miss those days.”

“Me too.”

They go quiet, so quiet that Junhui thinks Minghao might be asleep. That is, until he whispers,

“Junnie?”

“Yeah?”

“...Nothing. Good night.”

“Good night, baobei.”

With Minghao wrapped in his arms, he has the best sleep he’s had in, probably, years.

He tries not to read into that too much.

—

They spend half of the next day asleep, curled into each other on Junhui’s bed.

When they both stir awake around noon, Junhui presses kisses to Minghao’s face, soaking up his warmth until the younger man stretches and says with a smile,

“Let’s go for a drive.”

Junhui drives with no destination in mind, just nodding along to whatever Minghao plays on the aux, smiling when he sings along to the music. He always loved hearing him sing.

They grab hot pot for dinner at a nearby restaurant, and Minghao holds his hand under the table. Junhui feels warm all over.

As the sun starts to hang low in the sky, they drive to The Field and fuck in the backseat yet again, just for old times’ sake.

Junhui is in the middle of lazily making out with Minghao, when his phone rings, startling them both.

“Shit,” he sighs, reaching down to where he stowed his pants and digging his phone out of his pocket. He shoots Minghao an apologetic look before answering. “Hello? Hyung?”

Minghao props himself up on his elbows and whispers, “Who is it?”

“Jeonghan,” he whispers, then says, “Hyung? Are you there?”

“Jun-ah!” Jeonghan exclaims. “How’s Shenzhen?”

“It’s good,” Junhui smiles, even though he can’t see him. “How’s L.A.?”

“It’s empty without you,” he replies in a sing-songy way. “Shua and I miss you.”

“Jun, come back,” Joshua’s voice suddenly rings through his phone. “I’m tired of hanging out with Jeonghan.”

“You’re tired of me? I have to put up with your annoying ass every day, imagine how tired I am!”

Junhui laughs at his friends’ bickering. “Well, I’ll be back in L.A. soon. Don’t kill each other before I come back, okay?”

“We’ll try not to,” Jeonghan sighs.

“Hey, Jun,” Joshua says. “Are you gonna audition for that action movie when you come back?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs in thought. “Probably. I read through the file of the script my manager sent over and it sounds interesting enough...why?”

“Well, I figured if it’s an action movie, it’ll probably require some extensive training, right? So we could start working out together in the new year, maybe.”

Junhui laughs. “Oh, so you want me to land the action movie gig for your own benefit, I see.”

“Ignore him, Jun-ah,” Jeonghan interjects. “He’s just being annoying as usual.”

Suddenly, Minghao reaches around Junhui to pick up his jeans on the car floor, trying to quietly tug them on. When Junhui gives him a questioning look, Minghao just motions for him to continue his call.

“Hao, what are you doing?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“Nothing, just keep talking to your friend.”

“Junhui?” Jeonghan asks over the phone. “Is someone there with you? Are we interrupting something? Should I hang up?”

“Uh, I’m just with...an old friend of mine, hyung,” he answers, watching warily as Minghao continues to put on his clothes.

“Oh, I see. Well, I won’t keep you, then. Go spend time with your friend,” Jeonghan says. “Have fun in Shenzhen, Jun-ah! Talk to you later!”

“Thanks, hyung. Talk to you soon,” he says, then quickly hangs up the phone.

Before he can say anything, Minghao opens the door and steps out of the car, leaving Junhui in the backseat alone. He watches as Minghao walks to the front of his car and leans against the hood of it, waiting patiently.

Junhui huffs, reaching down to pick up his clothes and scrambling to put them on, then gets out of the car to join Minghao.

“What’s going on?” Junhui asks, still trying to fit his foot into one of his shoes as he stands before Minghao. “Is something wrong?”

Minghao is staring out at the Shenzhen skyline, gaze distant, faraway. “You know, I never told you this, but whenever I came back to Shenzhen during uni, it never felt like home. I think that’s part of the reason I stopped wanting to come back.”

Junhui occupies the empty space next to Minghao, copying his position and gazing out at the lights stretched before them. “Why? This is your hometown, Hao.”

“I think,” Minghao inhales sharply, “I think you made this place home for me, actually. Before I became friends with you, I was convinced I didn’t belong here. And then I met you, and you made me feel like...at least I belonged with someone, to someone.”

“Hao…”

“And now, being back here with you, everything feels like home again,” he continues. “You made Shenzhen home for me, Jun. Hell, you are my home.”

“You’re my home, too, Hao.”

“No,” Minghao shakes his head. “You have two homes–the one here, and the one in California. You’ve built families in both, that’s just who you are. But me? I’ve never had a real family, not like yours. I move from place to place, trying so hard to find something like it in every city I go to. But I never find it.”

Junhui turns and gives Minghao a pitying look. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, then closes it.

“You were the closest thing I ever had to a family, Junhui,” he says quietly, shutting his eyes as if the admission pains him somehow. "And then we fell in love, and I would look at you and think ‘maybe one day, maybe one day I’ll buy a house and raise a family of my own with him.’”

Junhui closes his eyes too, as hurt runs through his veins.

“God, I was so naive. Sometimes, I would even think, ‘wow, one day I’ll get to tell our kids that I was lucky enough to marry my best friend,’” Minghao chuckles darkly.

Junhui opens his eyes, and the Shenzhen sky has darkened. “It could still happen.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” he mutters, turning to look at Junhui with dark anger in his eyes. “Not when we both know you’re just going to leave for L.A. again. It’s unfair.”

“But Minghao, I want–”

“Don’t say it, Jun.”

“I want to be with–”

“Don’t,” Minghao says resolutely. “You already know you can’t have both, Junhui. You knew it five years ago and you know it now. And I won’t make you choose between having me or having your dream, I just won’t do it.”

"What are you saying, then?"

"I don't think we should meet up anymore," he says. "It's not healthy for either of us."

“Minghao,” he tries. “Stop. Let’s just get back in the car, let’s just drive somewhere and–”

“That’s our problem, Jun,” he says. “We keep going in circles, trying to avoid the inevitable. But we both know what’s going to happen: you’re going to fly to L.A. again, and go act in that action movie you talked about, and I’m just going to run away from Shenzhen again.”

“Okay, but we're both _here_ right now,” Junhui counters. “Why can’t we just enjoy what time we do have left together?”

“You already know why,” he sighs. “We have to end things now, or else we'll just keep putting it off until the holidays end and we're forced to split up. It’s better to end it before we get to that point.”

Junhui doesn’t think it’s better at all.

“Come on,” Minghao says with a sad smile on his lips. “Weren’t you the one who said pain makes things easier? We’ve gotta rip the bandaid off now, Junhui.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” Junhui says, eyes starting to brim with tears. He takes Minghao’s face into his hands, as if it’ll keep him there.

Minghao keeps that sad smile of his on his face, gazing up at Jun with his wide, sorrowful eyes. “We have to.”

“Can’t I at least drive you home?” Junhui asks. “Spend the night at my house again, and we can say goodbye in the morning, and–”

“No, Junhui,” Minghao shakes his head gently, placing one of his hands over his. “We can’t do this anymore. We have to say goodbye, this is only hurting us both.”

Junhui pulls him for one last kiss.

“Goodbye, Wen Junhui,” Minghao murmurs. “You’ll always be my first home.”

“Goodbye, Xu Minghao,” Junhui says, brushing his thumb against his cheek one last time. “You’ll always be my first love.”

Junhui gets into his car. Minghao waves to him with his empty hand, using the other to call Soonyoung and ask for a ride.

Shenzhen is as bright as ever at night, but to Junhui, it all looks dull and lifeless. He feels that way, too, pulling over twice to cry before he eventually makes it home in one piece. Everything in him aches as he returns to his bedroom, the warm, cozy bed from just this morning replaced by a cold emptiness.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

—

Junhui pushes his pain deep down inside him, and tries to act like everything’s fine. Acting, after all, was his passion.

He dumps all of his energy into helping around the house, turning down Soonyoung and Kun’s invitations to hang out. He barely sleeps anymore, manages to eat one meal a day. He feels like he has to teach himself how to function as a normal person again.

He does a pretty good job at keeping up the act, though. Until the week of Christmas.

It happens when he’s sitting in front of the fireplace with his father, watching the flames slowly die. Only, Junhui’s eyes are trained on a photo of him and Minghao from high school on the mantle, and soon enough, he can’t stop himself from unraveling.

“Ba, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” his father hums, poking at the logs.

“How are you supposed to choose between your dream and the person you love?”

“That’s the age old question, isn’t it?” he chuckles, sitting back down once the fire ignites to his satisfaction. “I don’t think anyone should have to choose between those two things.”

“What do you mean?” Junhui frowns in confusion. “Doesn’t everyone have to choose between the two?”

His father shrugs. “I think if the person you love is included in your dreams, then you won’t have to choose. Everyone has more than one dream, Junhui. It’s just a matter of balance. Compromise–”

“–is key,” Junhui finishes. His father always loved to say that.

“Exactly,” he smiles proudly.

Junhui stares at the dying flame, lost in thought for a long moment.

“Junhui?”

“Yes, Ba?”

“Include him,” he says, nodding up at the picture of Minghao.

The flame begins to grow again, and Junhui decides that it’s time to stop putting up an act.

—

It’s Christmas Eve, and he still hasn’t figured out how he’s supposed to talk to Minghao.

He’s lying in bed, lost in thought, when his brother knocks at the door.

“Hey, Ma wants to know if you’re going to invite Minghao over for dinner tonight.”

Junhui lifts his head from his pillows to glare at Fengjun. “I already told her no. Why does she keep asking?”

Fengjun sighs and sits at the bottom of his bed. “Look, I know you guys stopped...whatever you were doing, but you know that doesn’t matter to Ma. I mean, it matters but–anyways, she loves Minghao. He’s, like, her third son.”

“I know.”

“And more importantly, you love Minghao, too,” he says. “So you need to make things right with him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Junhui collapses against his pillows again. “We said goodbye for a reason–he doesn’t want to see me anymore.”

“I doubt that’s true. Minghao loves you,” he insists. “You guys have always had something special. You can’t just...give up.”

He turns to face his brother. “What am I supposed to do then?”

“Go find him.”

And so, Junhui gets into his car, and drives.

When he pulls into the Xu’s driveway, he shuts off the engine and stares up at the window he knows leads to Minghao’s bedroom. He wonders how he’s feeling, what he’s doing, if he’s thinking about him, if he’s been waiting for him to show up all along. It’s almost enough to make Junhui want to back out and drive away.

He steps out of the car anyway, and tries to swallow down the lump in his throat as he nervously works his way up to the doorstep.

Junhui rings the doorbell. He feels like throwing up.

Minghao answers the door, blinking in surprise when he sees Junhui’s face. “Junhui?”

“I know you said we should stop seeing each other, but I need to say this. I need you to hear it,” he says, desperate edge in his voice.

He purses his lips together in thought, then nods. He steps out to join him outside, shutting the door behind him. “Okay, go ahead.”

“I know I’m the one who broke up with you first,” Junhui starts. “I know I hurt you more than I can ever know. God, I shouldn’t even be here right now, asking for you to hear me out.”

“Junhui,” he interjects, “it’s okay. Just say what you need to say.”

“Okay. I meant it,” he takes a deep breath, “when I said you’re home to me. Maybe in a different way, but...you are my home. You were the first person who believed in me, who cared for me in a way no one else had before. You helped me feel at home in myself, Minghao.”

“And to tell you the truth,” Junhui continues, “I haven’t been myself in a long time. I haven’t been myself since the day I broke your heart. It always felt like I’d left a piece of myself behind when I left you.”

“Did you know that the last date I’ve ever been on was with you? I haven’t been on a real date since high school. Funny, isn’t it?” he laughs, but it comes out sad. “I was the one who didn’t want you to wait for me, put your life on hold for me, but I think...I think I’ve been waiting for you this whole time.”

“Junhui…” Minghao murmurs, reaching out to clasp Junhui’s hand.

“I wanted to move on. I thought that by living in my dream city, pursuing my dream job, I would be able to move on eventually, and be happy. But it was never that simple,” he says. “Sure, acting has always been a dream of mine, but I have more than one dream. And you, Hao...you were my first dream.”

Minghao tightens his hold on Junhui’s hand.

“It’s always been you, Hao,” he continues, “and I can’t lose you again. I want you to be by my side, living out our dreams together.”

“I want that, too,” Minghao smiles up at him.

Junhui sighs in relief at that, breath visible in the cold. “Okay then. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do now or where to go from here, but...I love you too much to not try and make this work.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, circling his thumb against the back of Junhui’s freezing palm. He glances up at him. “You really love me?”

“C’mon, you know I’ve always loved you,” he laughs. “But yes, baobei. I love you so, so much.”

Minghao breaks into a grin. “I love you, too, Junnie.”

Junhui pulls Minghao closer, kissing him slow and sweet, lips slotted together like they were always meant to be there.

Suddenly, he feels something land on his skin.

“It’s snowing,” Minghao murmurs in awe, gazing at the flurries falling around them. “Look, it’s beautiful, Jun.”

Junhui smiles at the childlike wonder in Minghao’s eyes, watching him watch the snowfall.

“Yeah, it is.”

They kiss underneath the snow until their lips start to go cold.

—

Junhui nervously bounces his leg, completely zoned out in thought as the flight attendant delivers the usual spiel of safety instructions.

Minghao places a hand on his thigh to stop his leg movements. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he lies, giving him a thin-lipped smile. “Totally fine.”

His boyfriend frowns. “Are you still worried I won’t like L.A.?”

“No,” he tries to lie again. Minghao gives him a pointed look, and Junhui sighs. “Fine, I’m still worried.”

“Junhui, how many times do I have to tell you? As long as you’re in L.A., I’ll like it.”

“But what if you hate it?”

“Well, it’s either I come to L.A. with you, or go back to temporarily living with Sicheng,” Minghao says. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“You never know, you could hate my apartment. You could hate Jeonghan, or Joshua, and want to move out,” he rambles. “You could hate California so much that you start hating me and break up with me and–”

“Junhui,” he cuts him off. “First of all, I could never hate you, so that’s not going to happen. Second, if I really don’t like it, we’ll figure something else out. I’m not going to give up on us if you don’t, okay? Now, stop freaking out when we haven’t even left Shenzhen yet.”

“Okay,” Junhui murmurs.

Minghao pushes the armrest between them up, and rests his head on Junhui’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about. Besides, it doesn’t matter where we go anyways, as long as I’m with you. You’re my home.”

Junhui presses his lips to the top of Minghao’s head. “I love you, baobei.”

“I love you too, Junnie.”

Junhui sleeps peacefully on the flight, waking up every so often only to glance at Minghao, asleep on his shoulder. He looks at him each time and thinks:

It’s good to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell that I hate putting these boys through angst lmao
> 
> if you want to scream abt junhao w me:  
> twt: [@mediumsuh](https://twitter.com/mediumsuh)  
> tumblr: [thatfangirlingfreak](https://thatfangirlingfreak.tumblr.com/)  
> curiouscat: [infinitywarmth](https://curiouscat.me/infinitywarmth)
> 
> thank you for reading, see you in 2021!


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